Hive Mind L III

Gaunt descriptions,

      Held by all tumour white inner witness blind eyes accept  the vacant translucent strangely worthless dim light of hate jaded opinion... Discriminating virtue harboured inside the swollen belly child of integrated bigotry lying to labour growing on fertile white toxic field language crosses standing amidst emotion terror and the ever presence of silence's threat above shallow amputated shovel graves six ashen inches deep.

In earnest anticipation of,

Post Ill Guardian Health

As a male, who once suffered from mental ill health in the form of eating disorders for fifteen years from youth to adulthood, I must say that indeed this is a pressing issue in our society.

Not only the predominance of the illness in culture, but how we as a society perceive those who are ill, before, during and after treatment. It is this social stigma that drives the ill from getting help or telling others, even themselves at times, that something is indeed wrong.

One perception is that doctors and family will accept the mentally ill person again, as normal and healthy, only when they are sufficient weight. Now, the above view may not be real at all, but I will say that as an adult with a mental illness, eating disorder, I experienced language in conversation with family that indicated my acceptance and health was tied only to my physical appearance. Which I may add, is the key contributor to having a false self image, leading to an eating disorder, in the first place.

Moreover there is a very dangerous subculture online that follows this illness, creating a vapid plague of content that only procures a deeper rift between the ill and those who perceive them, even if the rift only grows deeper in the minds of either party.

How can we say we love someone, if we do not accept them?

How can we say we accept someone, if we do not understand them?

How can we lay claim to understanding someone, if we spend no quality time with them...?

Help those who are ill understand themselves in the mirror, through accepting them without stigma, either it is within you or not, do not even imply it, lest you make the wound more grievous.

The following are two poems written about my illness and times of struggle.

Dapper Devil

Strapping young lad

Handsome moral heathen

Reprobate hiding a secret

Dreading a porcelain witness

Bloodshot eye disgusted scene

Mother's appalling judgement

Eldest twenty something son

Shackled inside contortions

Mental illness perception

Now everyone looks...

Down on the 'it'

That was him

Unisolated purge incident 

Bulimic acceptance lesson

Holocaust mirror reflection

Starvation self test dummy

Emotion architect upheaval

Anorexic search for...

The elusive demon

Acceptance

Dapper anorexic devil

Moral fibre student advocate

Degenerate perception enslaved 

Trapped inbetween corrupt worlds

Mirror's half convincing truths

Reflections worth devalued

Imperfect scale weight

Daily traumatic issue

Acceptance misery

Unisolated purge incident 

Bulimic acceptance lesson

Holocaust mirror reflection

Starvation self test dummy

Emotion architect upheaval

Anorexic search for...

The elusive demon

Acceptance

Strapping disorderly lad

Conduct loneliness hid well

Solemn scale wish adjustment

Acceptance endorsed by weight

Hospital admittance too late

Behaviour social stigma 

Labels burn the ears 

Trapped in fear

Of discovery

Unisolated purge incident 

Bulimic self inflicted test

Skeletal mirror reflection

Laxative self test dummy

Anorexic warning signs

A near death discovery

The elusive succubus 

Anyone's acceptance

Ghostly white hero

A near death bed scene 

Diagnosis administers regret

Walled in by prescriptions

Social stigma incriminate

Judgements on all sides

Wished into relapse

Hide in the secret

Behind the mirror

Confined in lies

Whelp Prodigy

Whelp prodigy

Golum in the mirror

Dual audio dialogue box

Personality swap paranoia

Schizophrenic shallow breath

Anticipating the incarnation

Of player versus player

Self monologue

In the mirror

Undone

Black oath son

Sheperdless vow child

Intoxicated plot unfolding

Causality of heart reminiscence

Murmuring through violence

Under a bully lord's throne

Father's game unplayed

A Chess surrender

Match of size

Never wit

Loss

Whelp prodigy

Holocaust skeleton

Sideways view hologram

Incapacitated half life illness

Mental anorexic measurements

Decapitated epidermis layer

Daily pound shed or else

Wishing for acceptance

Scale reflected mirror

Tragedy of tomorrow

Suicide time loss

Shoulder weight

Of the world

Alone...            

Villainous Times: What is Love II

Do you love your children?

For the sake of love, are you willing to...?

    Before you can love someone, you must accept them, before you can accept them you must understand them and in order to understand someone truly, you must be willing to know them without your perception bound prejudices, however small.

     So are you willing to question your own prejudice tied in to your perception in order to love your child. If you cannot do this, then I dare say you don't really love anyone, if someone in your life pondered your relationship they'd find thumb tacks upon the wall of post its, don't do such and such or reveal such and such in front of you; because your love is held under threat of perception.

In earnest anticipation of,

Hive Mind L V

Diseased mirror,

      Reign of emotion terror the anorexic barely survives, gaunt skeletal cage flame infused sand broadcast telling the tumour white inner eye blind witness all acceptance is husk bound via the vacant translucent strangely worthless dim light of jaded opinion: guided inner voice statement 'there is no equality, my puppeteer complex guarantees this ongoing structure of avarice lies

In earnest anticipation of,

A Written Spoken Word: Rune of Luck

Running up sand dunes,

      From the miller's anxious slow glass reverting to grains of above the avarice skies greed's bad no luck son is falling in extended malicious cat nails single puncturing digit palms as dogs chased them down beyond the frozen throne realm over of hell's condescension where the ashes of angels for whom the complication of bells stood idle never tolled, Therein held vocally tone ransom deaf unto inaudible chords unstroked by the touch of time's fatherless origin soul who would omit an overture of logically sound evolutionary speech to surrender all inhumanity incapable of resurfacing greed's crescendo of guilt unto shame's debt.

In earnest anticipation of,

Hive Mind L IV

Angelic eye parole,

    Timeless nose cloud bleed witness section to inhumanity's uncertain own right hand ending, Resigned to relinquish hope's twisted throbbing vein puppet on a golden pedestal memory as the crown of free conscious will enslaves itself to a bitter remix ending.

In earnest anticipation of,

What Demise of Change is this...

A slave am I,

     To the countless swells upon the synapse shores of the mind, labouring for change on behalf of hope, trapped here on this beautiful, crumbling, Sandcastle Earth. I don't want to stir things up with the social occupy style commentary spoken word poetry that pours out of me, as if I had writer's block in reverse.

     Not that anyone really reads the tide vernacular pools that settle themselves about the digital beaches of the internet's social yet invisible, or so it would seem, networks that others seem to thrive upon. How is it so? When a million poetic words have been written, then will someone grant me the most meagre recognition and say that I am an artist... At very least it could be said that 'I am a poet,' for such title is anonymous amongst artists. But this has allowed me to write whatever it is that comes forth, without hindrance of a harbinger's grotesque critique.

     As a writer any measure of 'success,' whatever that means in this world of uncaring greed, is left wholly up to the conditions created by my art. This humble text artist desires only to manifest tales upon pages from the depths of the empathetic imagination engine that ruins my peaceful sleep at night to write, write, write.

     So it is and shall be, until one day there is change...  Either way, I live to write and write to die, empty so that others might find solace and hope.

In earnest anticipation of,
Juton

Hive Mind L III

All curses be, 


     Upon the subject matter of illicit heart dysfunction content, passing fear unto the head amidst doubtful frets of worry, to be left past the entire line over, forgotten as if never real in times of need, abysmal solo one night noose fallen stand with a hand craft ash painted last vocal chord note resounds the crescendo of profitability over a single digit bleak life's cost, not even buried six white cross inches below the soil.

In earnest anticipation of,

Hive Mind L II

Inappropriate,

     Above the sky manifold hypocrite measures of a clause acting the witness to faithless DY air bomb raid drop crushing dream land of hope mines thriving on post ambition to survive the traumatic rewards amidst fallen sandcastle city of tidal ashen salt waves healing the prey of heaven's self indulgent apocalypse aftermath.

In earnest anticipation of,

Hive Mind L I

Serial arms,

      Extended withheld length killer vibe broadcast amidst the torrential social out of but in hate's touch stigma crimes pouring down from above the sky! The lies the naked calm unreleased loyal until starvation or black heaven born torpedo of death psalm, a vocally blind echo of lost souls born as unknown human status to no rights ghosts of the most unrelinquishing beauty; a child.

In earnest anticipation of,

The Little Things II - SandCastle Syria

Still working on the Kiev and Syria poems

The following is yet another verse in the saga.

Enjoy the poetry for peace.

Oh, Syria 

Society lost

Worried child

Trapped in isolation

Closet laws of shadow

Suppression abides all hours

Until silence interjects calm

Arresting rights in clauses of loss

Soaked white paper cuffs gone crimson

Damp in courage’s amputated marrow

Lifeless down on all faithless fours

Bombardment arrests equilibrium

Falling round won shell moment

False pregnancy cease fire test

Holocaust decorum of civility

An introduction to pacifism

Programme to stand idle

Hope's autobiography

3^rd party inhumanity

Sandcastle Syria

Are you falling? 

Hive Mind L

Obsidian heart,

     Tide held forever ransom to consciously woven catastrophic harbinger destruction of a pointed nail never crossed paths with a file of abstraction behind the transparent vale of drone green over black screen text endless never play fair book of lost tales once known as innocent 3rd no one gives a damn sandcastle world lives of the white no cross but a nameless wish fallen.

In earnest anticipation of,

Hive Mind XxxX IX

Crash addiction landing,

       Survival of the manipulative fittest champions of vacant profit no street but endless dollar bound derelict righteous abusive hand swing above the sinking line Lisa whose captain laced the hook to sink every opposing stance but the submissive mimes of greed, who revolted in the so over moral trench play war ground of debt's  noose unto anchor thrown over the unforecasted side of Medusa; inhumanity's avarice harpoon sinking heart enthroned with apathy ship that swore an oath to turn a blind over the shoulder never eye plead the degree of five times the losses no paper falsify shredded trail ever witnessed half a raised eye spectacle down to render inept at sight glance down an evil nose at the  last civilian never raises a voice but to protest death casualties.

In earnest anticipation of,

767 Dallas Buyer's Club I

So,

It's Valentines Day and I'm here writing this jazz down,

Off the tattooed heart on my sleeveless wrist,

What's the depth of metaphor...? 

That's for you to find, 

Empathize your own life experience

Graft it upon the wrestling word slinging match

Provoke your heart from apathy and self loathing

Find use for the malignant hope that's so faded within

For our lives are bound for the helping of others

Even if it is just via a mere smile

As you pass one another by.

Without Further Ado

Dallas Buyer's Club Part I

Lost boy

Single dream

Drink and thrive

Bad vibe night ride

Sexual story shepherd

Exposed cowboy psalms
Barrel of a throbbing serenade

 Eagerly seeking a one night queen
Bare  face down eight second count
Ugly rodeo eruptive finish intentions
Inappropriate measure dismount
Another dark princess joyride
Begins the broncos march
A descent into hell
Out of bigotry

Bitter Remix XVIII

Obliterated landscape,

   Riddled festivals of discon-post hope well gone vapidly forlorn desert of loss dry-tinued Russian blank never slain anyone but conveyed inhumanity's dire will to set dead bolt lock straight faith's ransom forever emotion terror rare form star wounded eternally double metaphoric think hyperbolic tank captured plaza of the heart.

In earnest anticipation of,

767 Fallen Down Blue in the Face Syndrome Apple

The following poem was inspired by Blue Apple Theatre Company's

BBC Video of Hamlet Production can be found:

Hamlet, by Blue Apple Theatre

The content below is not wholly endowed with positivity

Some of it is inspired by initial reactions to a beautiful life discovery

That a child born into this world might be less than 'the status-quo healthy norm'

But that is not the whole story, the heart grows with the blossoming diagnosis

Warm scars cover the wounds of once cold looking down eyes

So that the achievement of acceptance and hope can happen

The following rings true 

In this, as in every tale...

How can we love someone, if we don't accept them?

How can we accept someone, if we don't understand them?

How can we understand someone, if we spend no quality time with them?

So it is with love, oft it grows upon us with time

With trials, smiles and understanding

That hope is absolutely...

Necessary

Without Further Ado

Blue Apple Syndrome Seed

Blue rose seed

Prey of great trials
Psalms of grief in harmony

Frail light child song awakening

Prolific doubt can rest easy

Hope rescues shapes

A future at stake

On life's stage

Theatrical rise

Awakened senses

A singing bell defeat

Threat of silence ended

No womb fragile abnormality

Courageous life stage protagonist

Vibrant chiselled portrayed smile

Adversity sculpted honest hero

Waking a family's acceptance

Dramatic acting achievement

Shakespeare's flag to raise

Banner of Hamlets loss

Waking the blue apple

In a mother's eye

From depression

 and nightmares

Of a life lost

Degenerate 21

Hereditary altercation

Would be parents fallacy

Acting on life's diagnostic stage

Narrow view of our god's image redefined

Failed regulated right to life's health check up

Cleansing our Father in heaven chromosome prayer

Genetic disorderly prenatal screening opted misconduct

Fallen blue face struggling to breath face down apple syndrome

Cure for an unavoidably daily wounded mother's heart sick detour of thought

Vocal no more than a singularity moment's never answered thank God wish

Umbilical chords strangling prayers of children by blood's own hands

Academy of cursed angels voice boxes singing holy fire spells

Casting oracle seer's no future for kid killer's incantations

Invoked upon selfish unspoken hive greedy mind psalms

Vomited spiritually defining juncture of spoken words

Gesture messages in a bottle to heaven minted sent

Eternal habitat ran out of hallowed supplies

Bearing the metallic titanium bone weight

Of amputated womb prayer attempts

At selling a child's untested soul

Into hell's unending traffic

Or a divine purgatory

Ghost town colony

A forever prison

Press enter...

To continue?

Blue apple embryo

Seed of immense trials

Prey of narrow God Psalms

Poems wrought of comfort wishes

Where hope lay isolated from joy in chains

Caught between depression and madness

Frail child's life misinterpretation

Weary faith diary unfolded

A Mother's understanding

And love's acceptance

Journal of compassion

She writes now

Nature's dramaturgy 

Teleporting selfish dreams

Disrespectful comfort sickness

Ineffective security wound clots

Weakness ailment  avails no smile

Beauty of dismantling points of view

Transmission of a young life's aspirations 

Hope's cure lingers behind grey clouds

Characters of a hive mind disapproval

Inner cultural norm breakdown

Tempting malady depression

Bad thought habit kick

Invoke a feeble smile

Awe's testimony

Amidst hope's turbulence

Rearranging the illicit sadness tide

Fallen wonder re-established

Wounds peace cauterized

Acceptance discovery

Understanding is...
Sanguine's smile

Eternal

Blue life seed

Stage ever presence

Glittering edged sword

Smile of a newborn combatant

Gene besieged tiny heroic vessel

Malady champion assaulting life's plot

Braving the social intolerant stigma

Tireless faithful smile harbinger

Imposing wondrous charm

From an endless source

A joyous family scene 

Embodying equality

This is acceptance

Expounding

Hope

Villainous Times: Parental Game & Watch

Lock on target,

    Parents and guardians, please give up the whole control scheme over abysmal logic over your children under the premise of such despicable sentences, such as; 'grow out of your childish games'  or 'get a regular job' or even 'such and such art won't get you anywhere, go get a real degree,' as if a degree meant anything today and you (parents / guardians) aren't addicted yourselves to some facet of comfort that you deny exists, usually the television, but then there is alcohol and other escape methods you utilize as well, don't pretend to disavow your little realms of ignorance adoring harbour of bliss.

      The escapism of children is honest and into dreams, played in games brought to you by their every growing, save when you sink it, imagination! Then there is the landscape of digital mixed multi gaming media via the console, the PC, MaC and now, more recently, phone! Sadly, in most cases the creative imagination is shot down by wicked sinful plague words of doubt and false realism that states 'the ordinary must be achieved in order to make it anywhere in society.' Of course this statement and others like it are brought to you by a disguised mantle of fear, that the parent using the statement above is to sentence the child to a life of silly nine to five debt solitary pay off confinement riddles that not even greed has solves yet, it adores all of the citizenry who dive willingly into its bed.

    So let your children dabble and potter, you don't really know what they'll be learning at, they might surprise you with their intellectual knowledge based future planning authentic charitable entrepreneur type artistic dreams, whether that be at home or online. Stop trying to counsel your children to a career or abysmal status quo career oriented creativity when they could be and currently are, working in positions around the globe that didn't even exist when you were born. Besides there are other very much more alarming to harming escape methods than books, online / board / role play games... Far far worse addictions lay socially accepted by the same hive minded parents that attempt to own their children's future in cigarettes, drugs or alcohol.

    Even you as parents may have your vice 'addiction,' which I mean is your preferred method of escape, that harms you daily or your long denied nearly dead dreams... Do the sitcoms, reality tv or game shows challenge you or allow you to interact with humanity? Most games allow one type or another of interaction or challenge, coordination hand to eye or in a team of people working to achieve a common goal. The mentality is the same, escape. Be glad at least they are not into something worse than 'games.'

     As you always liked to claim over us, respect your elders, well your children may be your spiritual/intellectual/knowledge and thus wise elders, respect their words and ponder over their wisdom. Oh yeah, and look at the log jammed in the remote control plotting your dreary half eye open course through televised on screen land, before pointing out the splinter on theirs.

In earnest anticipation of,

767 Fallen Down Blue in the Face Syndrome (Apple Preview I)

Degenerate 21

Hereditary altercation

Would be parents fallacy

Acting on life's diagnostic stage

Narrow view of our god's image redefined

Failed regulated right to life's health check up

Cleansing our Father in heaven chromosome prayer

Genetic disorderly prenatal screening opted misconduct

Fallen blue face struggling to breath face down apple syndrome

Cure for an unavoidably daily wounded mother's heart sick detour of thought

Vocal no more than a singularity moment's never answered thank God wish

Umbilical chords strangling prayers of children by blood's own hands

Academy of cursed angels voice boxes singing holy fire spells

Casting oracle seer's no future for kid killer's incantations

Invoked upon selfish unspoken hive greedy mind psalms

Vomited spiritually defining juncture of spoken words

Gesture messages in a bottle to heaven minted sent

Eternal habitat ran out of hallowed supplies

Bearing the metallic titanium bone weight

Of amputated womb prayer attempts

At selling a child's untested soul

Into hell's unending traffic

Or a divine purgatory

Ghost town colony

A forever prison

Press enter...

To continue?

Malefic Condescension III

Prophetic seer's groan,

     Pure urge of a peaceful vision clause trapped in the heart's of undeserving greedy men who stand as a beacon of apathy at the end of lethargy's dusty hateful rage penetrating nature's light with unkindness house of battle never won dread forever yet naught in a future of cries where inhumanity the only virtue of Avarice bride of the shallow unbelieving who reside above the moral trench wars.

In earnest anticipation of,

The Little Things I

Dismantled convictions,

     Fallen to aggressive hand cuff me historically down clauses written in tiny numerical heart bleeds rain drops to read.

In earnest anticipation of,

Malefic Condescension II

Angels on fire,

       Six ashen char onyx black wings no bell ever tolled for exist as a prelude to naked light epidermis forms of seraphim who never sung the creative genesis evacuation of the red tide sea shores of hidden life came evolutions a code of broken no one left alive moral trench fibre k-nine death stench ethics of the scythe bearing ancient soul oblivion swell, Death Himself.

In earnest anticipation of,

Malefic Condescension I

Condescending Belief,

     All fate stored up in heaven, God reassured testimony of death in hand He's deemed it your time to die... Ignorant nothing shall ever be hallowed on earth as these pathetic psalms cast out of grotesque sight blind faith's false harbinger of lies testimony stands at the right hand of nature watching the dust of greed nurture mankind into an iced over earth state of hell has all of its fury pent sleeve half rolled tattooed cross visibly up stored for inhumanity and not Satan, for he is but one ashen no wing from bell toll angel in the grand unquenchable audience witnessing the down never raised a Devil's whisper in the ear of a single child of man fall of Sandcastle Inhumanity's Universe!

In earnest anticipation of,

A Poetic Prose Preview: Malefic Condescension I

Condescending Belief,

     All fate stored up in heaven, God reassured testimony of death in hand He's deemed it your time to die... Ignorant nothing shall ever be hallowed on earth as these pathetic psalms cast out a sights of grotesque belief!

In earnest anticipation of,

War's Synonym: Profit I

A Poem Inspired on the Film: Out of the Fire: Into the Furnace and Beyond.
From a City Slicking Canadian in Glasgow.

Sleepy mill fire vacant town,

     Hollow tired expressionless facial contortions pierce the furnace's funeral pyre inner death final synapse toll of final white tumour eye blind roll battle flag dread ship naught back into a lingering quagmire of apathy's regret million word marsh sketch of fallen amputated phantom lives on foreign mine stolen burnt oil surface surface of the tide stealing sandcastle earth via an ocean never ending trench deep operation removed appendix of oblique field of crosses never witnessed life beyond a single apparatus parent still in silent reflection born nine months into the war; Synonym for progress.

     Clause hosted blank ledger statement of lost retribution rabbit down a six foot stomach plunge whole Buddha's pregnant swollen doublethink paradox loss is swallowed by profit's every life by a chosen algorithm's profitable ancient sun: Manifest grotesque destiny of America's everywhere dream, Idolized by anorexic Arabian to amputee string marionette Syrian faithless Greek debt stolen future children at ease protesting in central everything square.

In earnest anticipation of,